


ode to narcissa malfoy.

by Prettything_uglylie



Series: the leaflets that fall out when you shake the book [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Canon Compliant, Drabble, Extended Scene, Gen, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Parent Narcissa Black Malfoy, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, M/M, Maternal Instinct, Motherhood, Motherly love, Supportive Narcissa Black Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26269954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie
Summary: And it was only seventeen years ago. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, is not only the same age as her son but he's slightly older than Draco. But that is not the only connection Draco has to Harry Potter.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Narcissa Black Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Fenrir Greyback/Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy & Harry Potter
Series: the leaflets that fall out when you shake the book [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1415044
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84





	ode to narcissa malfoy.

**Author's Note:**

> hey so this was the little ficlet i wrote about her thoughts during the scene and I just, hope you like this!

The boy's name is Harry Potter and that's all he is: a boy. He was a boy, who was supposed to be raised by two loving parents who she had only vaguely known but seventeen years ago, they were killed. 

And it was only seventeen years ago. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, is not only the same age as her son but he's slightly older than Draco. But that is not the only connection Draco has to Harry Potter. 

Narcissa Malfoy (nee Black, she reminds herself the days her own name feels too much like a claim from _him)_ stands over the body of a seventeen-year-old boy and debates whether to tell the truth or not. 

* * *

She doesn't tell Draco's truth. 

Fenrir Greyback had taken to her son with a more than disturbing reverence that they had both noticed and been wary about but when Lucius had started to grow his backbone and even yelled at the Dark Lord about how his child needed less pressure, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had nodded to the werewolf. Fenrir's smile was wide and that of a hungry animal who enjoyed the pull of meat between its teeth as he fisted a hand into the back of his hair and bent him over their dinner table - a place where Draco had eaten since he was a _baby_ and now was bent over like he was _easy_ , in some sort of way - with his teeth skimming her son's collarbone. 

She had settled her face into a mask of apathy out of protection and if the Dark Lord knew that both of them had been afraid, he would have used that without hesitation but he didn't because she would not shed the same tears or have her lip tremble the same way Lucius' had. 

She felt the anger inside of her boil though, but because of her, the Dark Lord had barked to Fenrir to let her son go and he had, unharmed in every way except psychological. 

Draco had stumbled from the room, uneasy on shaky legs and sniffling as he left before being followed from his mother ten minutes later in order to not arise suspicion. 

They're prisoners in their own home, she thinks dreadfully but closes her eyes as she sees her son curled down on the floor, head buried in his properly tailored dark dress-shirt as he sobs. 

Closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath through her nose. Imagines signing the divorce papers to Lucius. Exhales through her nose. Opens her eyes to find her son staring at her with that same tired distrust he now carries for the world. 

She hates that it's aimed at her. She hates that he has the exhausted weariness he does, hates that he finds it in his own parents despite knowing it is because of Lucius. It is her own fault in complacency, she assumes. 

Narcissa looked at her son and curled one of her hands into his and said: _tell me about the boy you love. tell me about Harry Potter._

* * *

Narcissa Black looks into the eyes of the Dark Lord and for the boy her son loves, she lies, 

_"Dead."_

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you like this! kudos and comments are appreciated greatly!


End file.
